With Help From You, Jack
by Sparrow's Someone
Summary: JackAna Maria. alternating Jack & Anna's POV. Will a sparrow be able to help a girl to accept who she truely is? Rated R. Better summary inside.
1. Saved by a Sparrow

**A/N: Alright, peoples- this is my first Fanfic, and it might be good, but it might be awful. I don't know. I need you to tell me, honestly. Flames are accepted, but reviews are welcomed. Please, be nice, but if you're not I won't be offended. So thanks, and I know people hate reading those little responses to reviews in a chapter, but I only think it's fair to take the time to respond when you are kind enough to take time to review.**

**Summery: Well, basically a Jack/Anna Maria romance… don't see to many of those anymore, and I think that they're made for each other in a mismatched way… so here's my theory on how a woman got on the Pearl. And for future reference, not only is this before the movie, but the movie never happens… I mean with stealing her boat and stuff with Will and Liz- too confusing. :)**

**Alrighty, now for the greatly anticipated disclaimer! I own The Pearl, Captain Sparrow, and… oh wait that's my little fantasy world. I take everything back. I only own my computer that I'm typing this fic on. And the DVD… and various other PotC paraphernalia. That's all.**

Chapter One

Saved by a Sparrow

I shivered. It was a cold night on the deck of the abandoned ship, 'The Tempest'. At least, that's what a drunken sailor painted on her side years before, when her real name had been washed away by years of salt. No one remembered the Tempest's original name. I had 'discovered' it after running away from that dreaded place. One day I was on my way to Port Royal, the next, captured by filthy pirates, and sold to a… a brothel.

It was awful- I was locked in a room with more of an undergarment than a dress and only a small amount of stale food slipped through the door. I stayed in that room, no; cell, for three days until the first came. I recall telling the owner of the brothel that I couldn't stay here; I was a maiden- a virgin. A brothel is no place for a young lady like me. He laughed and I had a feeling that I would probably go to the highest bidder. And I did. The fist man smelled very strongly of alcohol, but he seemed and acted sober. His hair was greasy blonde and about shoulder length. I remember he tore my clothes, and beat me if I spoke. His teeth were a grimy blackish brown, and I only saw them when he smiled as he hit me. I knew yelling for help would be useless. People must be used to hearing screams of help here. The man was strong, and seemed stronger for my body was weak from the small, stale portions of food. Then he did what I thought would never happen to me… only whores and unrespectable women had this happen to them… he opened my legs and raped me.

And he was only the first.

Four more came, one per night. The rest were so drunk they could barely stand, but none the less they were all violent. The night after the last violent man came, my opportunity came for escape. A man came in with dark eyes, long dreadlocks, and a handsome face. I knew better than to hope that the handsome ones would help me by then. But this man was different. His eyes- I cant explain, they seemed sober, and… kind. The fist kind eyes since I arrived in Tortuga. And he did something none of the others had done: he smiled. Not a cruel smile like the violent men, but a true, genuine, kind smile. And I remember his voice. It was deep, but it had ups and downs in pitch, almost as if he were singing.

"'Ello, love!" He grinned, showing several gold teeth, winking at me with the pale moonlight from the small barred window. Then the fascinating man frowned. I'm sure he saw me shaking. When he spoke the next time, it was soft and comforting; how you would talk to a caged animal.

I was caged.

"Easy, love. 'S'all right. I'm not gonna hurcha' an' I'm not gonna rape yer either. I don't sleep with the women here. I'm going to help you." I relaxed and realized in instinct I had backed myself in the corner. "What's yer name, lass?" he said, eyes softening with each passing moment.

"Anna Maria."

I tensed, not knowing what would come next. I stayed where I was, crouched on the corner of my cot, still pressed in the corner draped with spider webs. I tensed again as he took another step forward, then another. He was approaching my cot. He touched me on a bruised shoulder. I winced. His hands were strong, and rough like sandpaper.

But he was gentle.

He drew back his hand as I winced, and looked at my face. His eyes seemed to ask my permission to touch me agian. I nodded timidly, and he gently pulled the shoulder off of what was left of my gown and hissed with a sharp intake of breath and tutted in pity at my battered body. He began to pull off the rest of my silk scrap of fabric they gave me for clothing, and I drew back from his gentle hands, and I looked into his eyes. I saw no lust as I had with the others. I saw only concern and kindness. I had made up my mind. I wouldn't resist to this man, even if he tried to rape me now. He showed me something none of the others had: concern, gentleness, and respect.

He was different.

**Okay. I know it's short, but it's a trial thing. If I get one review, I'll update as soon as I can… but no reviews, no updates. Please review, even if it is to tell me that it's all crap- its fine. I am not offended. Please review!**

**Ta,**

**Sparrow's Someone**


	2. Practicing Patience

**THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU! And to my very first reviewers:**

**Saphira: Yes, you're my first reviewer- thank you! If only my English teacher thought I had good grammar…**

**Robyn Stryker: Thank you so much! I'm flattered!**

**Nycjoc: Thank you! Sorry about spelling her name wrong, I got a lot of that…blushes**

**Anon: Hehe, thanks!**

**Sereture: Thanks! Not crap, eh? Wow. And yes, this is a little longer…**

**Rose Noir le Mort: Thank you! And without all of you, I wouldn't be writing!**

**Cal: Wow. First off, thanks for welcoming me to the world of Jack and Ana! You gave me some very interesting ideas… sorry about the spelling… and yes this is my first fic. And I will now be referring to her as Ana Maria, thanks! This chapter is dedicated to you, because your review was almost as long as my chapter!**

**Hehe, thanks everyone! You have officially saved my story. And now, just for you, on with the show!**

**Disclaimer: sobs into pillow I still don't own it!**

Chapter Two

Practicing Patience

I lay huddled on the deck of the Tempest, using the mast to keep the rain off of me. I had time to reflect on what had happened earlier that evening.

I sat huddled, naked in front of him. But I didn't feel afraid or modest in front of him as I had the others. This man wasn't looking at my naked body. He carefully kept his eyes off of anywhere I wouldn't want them. He kept his dark caramel eyes softly resting on my own. He reached into a pocket in his long leather coat and pulled out a modest white blouse, and a pair of breeches, as well as some feminine undergarments. He set them on the cot beside me.

"Go on, lass. Put them on. I won' be able teh sneak ye out of here without ye lookin' like a man." Then he did something totally unexpected.

He turned around.

He was giving me back my modesty, which was so crudely taken from me from those filthy pirates. However, I did expect the kind man to be a pirate, after all: though he showed manners and intelligence, by the way he spoke I assumed he was uneducated.

After a moment of stunned silence, I reached for the clothes. Although the blouse and breeches were made for a man, they fit my slim and less-than-curvy body quite well, and were a welcome relief from that scrap of a dress. I sat for a moment on the cot and watched the pirate, his back still facing me. He was taking off his boots. After he was finished, he went to turn around, but stopped himself.

"Er, lass? May I turn aroun' yet?" he said awkwardly.

"Oh, yes, I'm sorry," I mumbled, knowing full well that he knew I was already dressed. He turned to face me and held out the boots.

"All righ' lass? Now, take these boots. They're prob'ly too big for a lass like you, but there all I got… Ye'll need them, thur's cobblestone ou' there." I took the boots and put them on.

"Wait, won't you need them?" I asked timidly. He paused a moment, then said, "Nah. I've got tough feet." I smiled at this, although barely. He caught it though, and broke out into a wide grin. It faded into a look of confusion as he reached in his pocket for something else. He pulled out a bottle of alcohol, (probably rum) and took off his coat. I flinched, after all, because all of the previous men to see me had been drunk. It makes perfect sense to think that when men get drunk, they become violent.

The man noticed (he seemed very aware of everything around him) and shook his head. "I'm no' gonna drink it, lass. Don' worry your pretty little head." He then, with a slight look of remorse, dumped the majority of it over his white blouse, which was very similar to mine, except his had a slit in it from the neck to halfway down his chest. I was baffled. Some of the men I had met in this place were soaked in alcohol, but somehow I don't think they just poured it on himself as this man did. He took of his weathered tri-cornered hat and put it on my head. He then proceeded to dump the rest of the bottle over his head.

He gave me his coat. "Alrigh' so here's the plan, see? I'm gonna go out there and make an ass of meslef, creating a scene. Yer goin' to slip out the front door unnoticed whil' the me and the guards at the front door have a bit of a fight. Then they'll kick me ou' for bein' a lousy drunk… and I'll meet you on the deck of th' Tempest at midnigh'," he slurred- a very convincing drunk. His voice returned to normal as he said, "Don' talk to no one. 'Sept me, o' course. If some ass asks you somthin' just grunt and mumble 'eunuch'. Understood?"

"Yessir," I said earnestly. "Wait," I continued, "what's your name?"

At that he just smiled. "Jack," he said. "Jack Sparrow."

And with that, he turned on his heel, and staggered out of the door, singing a ballad about pirates well out of tune. I crept after him, walking in the most masculine way I could, a fair distance behind. Jack fell down the last few stairs, only to be caught by two whores that went into the business willingly. They smiled and batted their eyelashes at him as he staggered to the bar. I began to creep towards the door, terrified at the two guards standing there. I turned around at the sound of breaking glass, and realized Jack was standing (shakily) on the bar. And he began to sing. Loudly. And out of tune.

"Yo, ho, yo, ho a pirate's life for me!..."

I turned back towards the door again, and resumed creeping, noticing that the guards were watching Jack- and they were not amused. Jack began kicking mugs off the bar as he started to 'dance.' Just as he was about to start flirting with a rather large man, who turns out to be the owner of the hellhole, the guards made their move. And I made mine. As I reached the doors, I turned back to see where Jack was. The guards were only a few feet away, but his eyes locked with mine and he mouthed, "Go!"

So I ran.

I ran until I reached the docks, and looked desperately for the Tempest. As a was wandering confused, a buxom woman a few years older than I sauntered up to me.

"Hey there fella, would ye be wantin' some pleasurable company t'night?" The woman said seductively as she waved her hips in a tight red dress.

I mumbled for a moment, before remembering. "Mumble, mumble, eunuch, mumble."

She looked at me, carefully, and then proceeded to take my arm and lead me into a dark alleyway. "Are you familiar with Jack Sparrow?" she asked in hushed words. I nodded.

"You one of Jack's girls?"

I was floored. I didn't know what to say. Looking back on it, I was probably very stupid. I nodded yet again. "I recognized the hat," she said, taking a slim finger and pushing the brim over my eyes. "So ye be lookin' for the Tempest? Don't worry, I was one of Jack's girl's too. He got me an' Giselle out about five years back. The name's Scarlet. I'll take ye there. Just hold on to me arm and look like I'm takin' ye for the night." I watched her for a moment, then she continued, "Please pass me name on to ol' Jack… Scarlet, remember… I do miss him. Good man, good pirate." And with that, she grabbed my arm and pulled me down the street.

It was awkward playing the part of a drunk and horny pirate, but I guess I was convincing enough. Probably because if anyone looked in my direction, they were looking at Scarlet. That was just fine by me. Eventually she directed me onto a little rundown boat that was the Tempest. Scarlet found some blankets below deck, and sat with me for about an hour- mercifully keeping talk to light things such as the weather, and far from topics like prostitution… or Jack. About two hours before midnight, Scarlet left me. I saw here walking off with another girl, presumably Giselle. I watched them work their street corners for a while, and then tried to get comfortable against the mast. I took off Jack's hat and held it in my hands. I stared at the leather, trying to memorize each scratch and salt stain, realizing there must be a hundred stories created during the course of this hat's travels. I turned it upside down, and to my surprise there was something inside.

A note.

From Jack.

It read:

_Dear Lass,_

_I won't say where you are here, in case this hat falls into another's hands. Just wanted to remind you I'll be there at midnight. I will be alone, so don't be afraid. Just stay quiet and I'll meet you at midnight._

_ Jack Sparrow_

I was amazed. He didn't seem educated, yet he can write with grammar as good as mine. And he could write at all, I noted to myself. I put the note back in the hat and put the leather ornament back on.

I can wait until midnight.

**A/N: Thank you again to my dear reviewers! Wow, seven in one day! I feel very privileged in deed. However, I will need more reviews to keep this story going! Suggestions are welcome as well. Any response is welcome! Also, I will probably only be able to update on weekends- the whole school thing makes it tough during the week, but I'll try. Thanks again!**

**Ta,**

**Sparrow's Someone**


	3. A Sensitive Sparrow

**A/N: Aright lads and lasses, I want ye all to know that YOU ARE SPOILED! I probably shouldn't post this frequently or you'll get used to it… but I was on a roll last night (even though I was supposed to be studying for a lit test… but y'all come first.  Just don't let my teacher know…**

**Sereture: Yay! Not crap!  Rum for you! Thanks!**

**Nycjoc: Like I said, I'm spoiling you all by posting this fast… sorry, I'll look harder for errors next time. Rum for you for constructive criticism! Hm…. Ana / Norrington? That's one I've never heard…**

**And last but not least:**

**Cal: You're not being bitchy! You're helping me a lot, actually. First time effort, remember- I'm not offended! And this one's dedicated to you again!  … I didn't mean to make you cry tho…  About underestimating Jack… she just met him… our little hellcat will learn… About her body figure…well, let's just say Jack has another opinion ;) Sadly no, there is no Bootstrap, and bringing in Barbossa would be just too damn complicated. The holding his hat holding Jack… well, holding Jack himself will come soon enough ;) Hope you enjoy! Drinks All around!**

**Disclaimer: hugs Cal for support still… sniff don't…. sniff own… sniff Jack… sobs**

Chapter Three

A Sensitive Sparrow

I woke up drowsily- I don't know how long I was asleep for, but it couldn't have been more than a few hours. I curled up into a ball out of instinct, trying to keep as much of myself covered as possible. After a moment, I realized I wasn't locked up in a brothel room. I was on the deck of a ship. A moving ship.

And I was floating.

Jack's face smiled down at me. "Sorry te wake ye love, I didn' mean to." I looked around. This wasn't the Tempest I had fallen asleep on: it was a much bigger ship, but in the darkness it was hard to estimate a size. More surprising, was that the ship was no longer docked in the harbour. Nor was I standing up.

Jack was carrying me.

He had one arm tucked behind my knees and the other behind my back. It seemed as though he picked me up as easily as a ragdoll. He helped me gently to my feet as I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes.

"Where are we Jack?" I asked him with a slight edge of fear in my voice, no matter how much I tried to suppress it.

"Ah, we be on me Pearl. The Black Pearl, that is. Captain Jack Sparrow at your service, milady." He grinned in that slightly crooked way he had back in my cell when he caught me smiling.

I couldn't believe it. I had escaped. Jack's plan had actually worked. What ironically surprised me more was that I didn't wake up when Jack got it into his head to carry me. I was perfectly capable of walking myself! I tried to feed this annoyance, but I couldn't. There was something nice about being treated like a woman again- treated as the weaker sex (even though it's not really true- somehow I don't think that a man could survive one day in a corset), and being carried when I was able to walk, just for the sake of letting me sleep.

Not to mention that Jack had saved me from a miserable life of involuntary prostitution. Prostitution…

Scarlet.

"Jack?" I said timidly.

"Yes, love?" He said in a voice that sounded as concerned as an older brother. It warmed my heart that this man I hardly knew would be as compassionate as he was towards me.

"Well, I have a message to pass on to you." Now it was Jack's turn to look confused. I broke down and told him the whole thing. "Well, after I ran from the… the brothel, I went to the docks to look for the Tempest. I couldn't find it, and then this prostitute came up to me. So I muttered and said 'eunuch,' like you told me to. Then she looked at me funny and pulled me into an alleyway. She said her name was Scarlet and she asked if I had heard of you. I nodded and she helped me find my way to the Tempest. She said to mention her to you, and that she misses you," I spilled. I sounded like an idiot.

Jack looked taken aback at first. As soon as I mentioned Scarlet though, he understood. "Lass, ye met Scarlet?... an' she's a prostitute again…" His eyes expressed an irrepressible sadness.

"Oh, I'm so sorry Jack," I whispered. I went to put my hand gently on his shoulder, but just as I went to move, he put his head in his hands as he slumped down against a wall. I knelt down next to him, and gingerly put my hand on his shoulder. His voice shook as he asked, "…an' Giselle…?"

I couldn't bear to see the man who saved me to be like this. He looked at me, into my eyes, and said, "Is she workin' a corner too?" I swallowed hard. This was very difficult to do. "I'm not sure, but I saw Scarlet with a blonde woman," I said carefully, trying to do the least amount of damage as possible.

Jack moaned softly, burying his face in his hands once again. "Why? Why wo' they go back to tha', after I risked me bloody life fer theirs?" I couldn't help it. I reached around and put my arm around his shoulder, and pulled him into a soft hug. We sat like that for a moment, and then we heard footsteps coming down the steps.

"Cap'n? Ye there?" a gruff voice said from the staircase. Jack stood up and was back to his strong un-phased self in a flash. I realized that for all his sorrow, he was strong enough to hide it, as well as never shed a tear.

"Aye? Gibbs, tha' you?" Jack said in a light tone.

"Yessir. Crew just wanted teh know if th' lass was alrigh'." Jack gave a sardonic smile. "Which one would that be, Gibbs? Looks here like little Scarlet and Giselle have gone back to their miserable roots."

"…Giselle?" Gibbs asked quietly. "I knew it. It's bad luck teh trust a woman. Never again, Cap'n. Never." He trailed off.

"Well, don' get ahead of yerslef there Gibbs. This here's Miss Ana Maria, our honoured guest, ye see? We just left the top floor of th' Faithful Bride. She'll be sailin' with us for a while," Jack said in his half-drunk slur. After a moment he added, "And because she's our honoured guest, I'm sure ye'll tell the rest of the crew teh respect 'er, won' ye Gibbs?" He gave a crazed grin that almost looked threatening.

"Yes, Cap'n. Right away." He turned and went back up the stairs. I stared at Jack. The transformation from sensitivity and grief turned easily into a commanding, crazed, drunk, … pirate. I got over the transformation enough to ask, "What does Mr. Gibbs have against women?"

Jack got that misty, far-away look of one recounting memories. "Well, 'bout five years back, me n' Gibbs rescued Scarlet and Giselle. Now, we took 'em to a different port teh start a new life, ye see? But while on board Gibbs an' Giselle had a bit of a romance. Oh, they tried teh keep me from knowin', but Gibbs has an awful loose mouth when 'e's drunk. Gibbs tried te stay with her, but 'e couldn' make enough money to support a family. So 'e was goin' out with the company while Giselle supposedly took care o' their little lass. So now, last port we was at was the one where Gibbs had left them. When we got there he looked everywhere fer them. He though' she died. So just now 'e found out tha' his Giselle is workin' a street corner. Now I suppose 'e thinks tha' womenfolk arn' te be trusted."

"I can see why," I said, appalled. "Why would any woman want to have that job?"

Jack shrugged. "I suppose ye don't need no formal education, ye get decent pay, an' it's a way te let out yer… yer sexual frustrations." I flinched slightly. I don't think I'll have any 'sexual frustrations' for a long time to come. Jack noticed me cringe, and put his arm around my shoulders gently. "Don' worry about it love. She made her own decision, no one else's. Just promise me ye won' go into tha' trade?"

"I need no encouragement, thank you." He gave me a wide grin. I smiled up at him. I realized that every time I smiled, he grinned back. If things weren't so serious, I'd think he had almost a schoolboy crush on me! I looked into his kind brown eyes again. If I didn't know better, I could have sworn that his eyes softened just a little more when mine met his. Maybe it was just a trick of the candlelight, or maybe my sleep-deprived imagination was playing a joke on me. I couldn't help it- I yawned.

"I should really start findin' you a place te sleep… Yer not sleepin' with the crew, that's for certain… I know! Come wif me, love," he said as he started down the hall. I followed, figuring that he would find me a cot in some storage room or other. We reached a door that read 'Captain' engraved into the wood. Jack pulled a key out of his belt and soon we were inside.

It was beautiful. Well, nicer than the room I had on the ship over here from England. Instead of a cot, there was a real feather mattress. The chest at the foot of the bed, the desk in the corner, and the wardrobe on the far wall were all made of a rich mahogany wood. Everything was decorated in good taste, and the far wall revealed a real bathroom: with a wash basin, soap, and big, fluffy, fresh towels. It looked like I was back in England, not on a pirate ship. Jack pulled out another key, opened the trunk, and was rummaging through things. After a moment, he pulled out another, looser, pair of breeches, and a nightshirt that went about to my knees.

At this point Jack looked a little awkward. "Well, here are some things fer you to sleep in… an' there's clothes in the dresser and chest for the mornin'. Make yerself at home." He flushed slightly under his dark tan. He pulled out a sheet and a coil of rope and went to go out, when what he was doing sunk in. I mustered all of my shattered courage.

"Wait."

He turned slowly, his eyes taking a moment to reach mine from the floor. I walked slowly over to him, and stopped mere inches away. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

I kissed him softly on the lips.

I flushed. My cheeks were on fire. I did the only thing I could think of doing. I whispered, "Thank you Jack. For everything." He nodded, still a little flushed under his tan, and softly closed the door. I let out a big sigh of relief. I changed into the nightgown Jack had left for me, and curled up under the blankets. It was only moments until I had fallen asleep.

Jack's P.O.V.:

She kissed me. Me bloody first kiss. Me, a pirate captain at twen'y-eight, been in countless whorehouses, and not as bad lookin' as Gibbs, and I get me first kiss from a lass broken inside an' out. And I can' do any bloody thing about it, either. If I kiss 'er, or show I even like the lass, she'll think o' me like all the rest that treated her poor. Come on, Jack, think! If I don't show anythin', then she'll think I'm a heartless bastard- or worse yet afraid of talkin' to her. I could sweet-talk 'er, but she'll slap me. Scarlet proved tha' sweet-talkin' won' work. I sighed, knowin' tha' no matter what I do, there'll still be more troubles in the mornin'. I went up on deck and made meself a hammock where I could watch the sun rise. 'Hopeless romantic, Jack, that's what you are, just like your father,' me mum would say. If I'm so bloody romantic, where's the romance fit in? Ah well. I'd talk te Gibbs, but 'e's probably too depressed te help me wi' my problems. I sat and listened to the waves for a while, until I started to doze off. Suddenly, I heard footsteps: heavy, mind you, not Ana's. So now I'm callin' her Ana?

Well, perhaps I am.

Just then Gibbs came out on deck with hammock under arm. "Er, Cap'n- I didn' know ye were givin' the lass yer quarters…" He turned to go, but I stopped him.

"Gibbs? Mind if I have a word with ye?" I asked hesitantly. "'Course not, Cap'n," came the immediate reply.

"We're in a similar boat Gibbs, ye can call me Jack out here, where only the stars hold witness." He relaxed. Joshamee Gibbs and me 'ave been, well, thick as thieves for 'bout three years now. 'E always calls me 'Captain' when someone else's in earshot, but between us, we're simple friends- almost brothers.

"Ah, Jack… I miss Giselle," he said as he finished putting up his hammock next to mine. "She was a good lass, wasn' she? Be honest now, Jack, as a friend."

I closed my eyes and leaned back. "I though' so, Gibbs, but I thought the same 'bout Scarlet. I'm not so sure now," I told him truthfully. He's a good man, and took it without a hit of emotion. I stared at the stars. "A tinker-woman told me once tha' you can read yer future in the stars."

Gibbs sighed. He thrived on superstitions ever since he had te leave Giselle and his little girl at port. He squinted, looking for some indication that there was no love lost between them.

"You won' find it there, Gibbs. I've already tried. I've looked for love in the stars ever since I met that bloody tinker-woman, but it's never showed up." I looked over at him, and offered him a bottle of rum. He took a swig, and handed it back. I hated these emotional moments between us, but thrived on them at the same time. I longed for a simple way to comfort him, withou' lookin' like a eunuch. Women can just cuddle and sob their troubles away- men are forced to have an ego. So we turn te rum. I looked over at him.

"If it helps, Gibbs, I'm havin' a bit of a woman problem meself. That Ana Maria lass… she's so… so…"

"Perfect?" Gibbs finished, sympathetically. "Not quite," I thought out loud. "She's beautiful, and smart. An', an'- broken, in a way," I told him.

"'Cause she's not a virgin?" Gibbs questioned carefully. I had me reputation, but that's all it was, a bloody reputation.

A façade.

"No! no, nothin' like that- just how Giselle and Scarlet were broken the same way, ye see? We thought they were fixed, that they were like how they were before they went to the Faithful Bride. But they shattered again as soon as we put them down."

Gibbs seemed to understand. "Ye think that she's traumatized? How can she no' be? How would ye feel if ye were raped by a bunch of pirates?" I ignored that last remark. I'd always been accused of being 'feminine' as a lad. Probably because I liked to swagger rather than walk.

"That's the thing, Gibbs. I don't know if she is traumatized, at least in the way we would think."

"Well, Jack, some women just hide it better, ye know," he reasoned.

That's when it all came out.

"Gibbs, she kissed me."

Gibbs stayed quiet. I'd known 'im since I was 'bout nine. Gibbs was twenty-one when I met him. I had no one, growing up in Tortuga. Gibbs found me, and looked after me like his own brother. When I became captain of the Pearl, I made him me first mate. Ever since we met though, we never kept anythin' from each other. An' he was the only man I know that I could trust on God's green Earth. Well, blue Earth is more accurate, I suppose. 'E always understands me.

"S'at yer first then?" Gibbs asked, in a rather unforgiving tone. I grunted as I gave a curt nod. He stayed silent. Good ol' Gibbs. Never one te push an issue too far.

"Ye think ye fancy 'er then?" Gibbs said after a long pause.

"Perhaps."

"An' yer a lil' 'fraid of 'er, arn'cha?"

"Gibbs?"

"Aye, Jack?"

"Too far."

**A/N: okay… dodges previously handed out rum bottles… I had to have a cheezy scene with Jack spilling his soft chewy center! Sooo… please don't kill me. And he's only this open with Gibbs… and Ana, too, I suppose… sorry for changing the P.O.V…. ah well. Sorry, P.M.S.-ing…and ye had to have a little more Jack, eh chaps? Review please!**

**Ta,**

**Sparrow's Someone**


	4. Learning to Love

**A/N: 'Ello, loves. You are being spoiled by all of this updating. But I have no homework tonight, so I don't think I need more of an excuse to spoil y'all, do I? Oh, and I had a bit of fun… so it switches pov's A LOT... hope it's not too confusing. : )**

**Stella italia: So sorry for not mentioning you before! Thank you for the compliments! … and who doesn't love Jack's soft chewy center : )**

**Cal: Dear Cal. I hope I did well on my test too… I'll find out this week crosses fingers and if you find mistakes, please don't hesitate to mention them, especially if they're something big (like the whole Anna thing…) lol hope the humour gave a bit of the break from crying! Oh, and don't worry about 'the bastards who hurt her'… I'm planning something for them. evil laugh and let's just say that Jack's rep is a bit of a sham, perhaps… but hush… and our little hellcat will recover soon enough! Alright now, I don't want to give away too much now… : )**

**Dedicated to Cal for unwavering (and delightfully long hint-hint everyone!) reviews!**

**Disclaimer: I have now joined a support group. Hi, I'm Sparrow's Someone. Hi, Sparrow's Someone. I… sniff… don't own Jack. Claps**

Chapter 4

Learning to Love

(Ana's P.O.V.)

I woke up in Jack's cabin, about an hour before dawn. I dragged myself out of bed, and looked in the tall wardrobe for something clean to wear. I opened the door, and I must admit it, my jaw dropped. Hanging up were about six or seven beautiful gowns. I fingered the soft silks, satins, and velvet dresses, and none of them were, well, over-revealing. They were quite modest, really. I pulled one out to hold it up to me. Looking in the full length mirror, the size seemed to fit me perfectly. However, there was one problem.

The corset.

Well, not the corset itself, but the fact that I highly doubted that there was another woman on board to help me into it. Not that I was about to go looking in a nightgown, either. I contemplated various ways of tying the corset strings to bedposts and such, and pulling with my body weight… but that still wouldn't tie them. I sighed, hanging up the beautiful sea-green gown back up in the wardrobe. The sash fell off the hanger, and I reached into the bottom of the wardrobe to retrieve it. My hand did not fall on the soft velvet of the dress, instead it touched satin. Confused, I pulled out the silky garment. What I saw horrified me. Memories came pouring back.

The brothel.

The men.

The pain.

I managed to scream just before I hit the floor in a dead faint.

(Jack's P.O.V.)

The Pearl's me first love- I know every little sound she makes, every rustle of sails, and can identify where a creak comes from on any part of the ship. Makes it very difficult for the crew te swipe me rum.

I'd been up 'bout two hours before dawn. I sat on me hammock, watching the water, waiting for the sunrise… and listening to Gibbs snore as loud as a bloody cannon. I tried to focus my hearing to something of a different pitch, hoping me bloody ears didn't fall off from the racket Gibbs was makin'.

Suddenly, I heard a sound. A creak. Good ol' Pearl was lettin' me know someone was up an' about. Me crew wouldn't be up, men with hangovers usually don't voluntarily wake up before the sun. I listened harder. Another creak. Opposite end o' the Pearl than the crew's quarters.

Then a scream.

And a faint thud. Me quarters. Ana. I tried to jump out of my hammock too fast and it dumped me sprawled on th' deck. Instantly I was running down the steps to where I heard th' scream. I reached me bedroom door, an' pulled out me skeleton key. Ramming it in th' lock, I flung open the door, only te see Ana collapsed on the floor. I scooped her up, and set 'er on me bed. She had dropped somethin'.

Damn.

It was a rolled up bunch o' rags that Scarlet and Giselle had been wearin' at th' Faithful Bride. Complete with a little dried blood from cuts and bruises. How could I have been so BLOODY stupid? I try te treat 'er good so she forgets the bloody brothel, and what do I do? First day on me ship and se faints dead away! I must 'e tossed 'em in five years back now- and forgotten. Damn, damn, damn!

I sighed in frustration, grabbing the garments off the floor. I opened the porthole with difficulty- it had only been, what say you? Fifteen years since it'd been opened? Once unlocked I tossed the sorry excuses for frocks out. She don't need no reminders o' what happened back there.

I went over to Ana. Her beautiful, soft, black hair (no, Jack! What're ye thinkin'!) was now blossomed with a red flower. Shit. I glanced back down to her rather see-through nightgown… Can't bring 'er to Gibbs in that- if she woke up an' Gibbs was there, with rum- **(A/N: for disinfectant to her head wound, not for drinkin')** she'd… she'd… I don't know what the bloody woman would do! I pulled a proper blouse out of the trunk. She was wearing breeches, thank god. I held me breath, half-hoping she would wake up and put on the blouse herself, saving me the trouble of explaining meself later…

I propped her up into a sitting position. I went aroun' back of her, so if she asked I could tell her I didn't see anythin'. I'm a bloody good liar when it comes to the likes of men, but womenfolk make it hard… They've got this scary look where their eyes go all hard and they can sense fear… Gibbs told me. An' I believe him. I've never gotten the look 'afore, but I've seen it given to others- not a pretty sight. Usually followed by a smart smack, if ye catch me drift. So I went 'round back of 'er and pulled off the nightgown, tryin' not te let it hit the bloody bit on 'er head. That lass'll feel like the worst hangover _I've _ever had, an' that's sayin' somethin'. I quickly put the blouse on 'er, using every bit o' me strength te not look…

(Ana's P.O.V.)

What in god's name…? Why aren't I wearing a shirt? Why does my head hurt…? Play dead. Or unconscious. That way you can evaluate the situation without being seen before you make your move. That's what my mum had taught me, for when I went out hunting with my father. 'Bears won't think of you as a threat if they think you're not responsive. Same with men, too…" my mother trailed off. Too bad I didn't have with my bow with me. She'd always been right in the past, so I kept my body limp, and opened my eyes so minimally they couldn't be seen through my eyelashes.

A man grunted. Behind me. He was pulling my shirt off! I glanced around carefully. The Pearl. Jack. Cabin. Jack? I listened to the grunts of effort made by the mysterious man behind me, hoping that it wasn't that same deep soft pitch that I knew as Jack's. But it was. I held my breath. Apparently this is not normal in an unconscious woman, because all of a sudden Jack stopped moving. I continued to breathe. And he continued to move about. Why was he behind me, taking off my shirt! Did he get me out of the Faithful Bride with that entire emotional act just so he could rape me in the privacy of his own quarters!

But why wasn't he facing me then? The little nagging voice said in the back of my head. I don't know! I responded angrily. Maybe he has some perverted fantasy or-

My mental ramblings were cut short by Jack pulling my arms above my head. Oh god, this is it… But then the material of a soft white blouse covered my range of vision. He gently pulled it down around my middle, and did up the buttons in the back.

I felt awful. Why was I so quick to judge this stupid, annoying, handsome, sensitive, gentle- What am I thinking! …Well, it is true… Jack had tossed the nightgown onto the floor in my range of vision, and I could see the floorboards through it.

"Oy, Gibbs! Get yer lazy snorin' arse down here! Ye've got a patient te look after!" I heard Jack roar from behind me. The volume made my head spin, but at that moment I realized why Jack had changed my shirt. He didn't want Mr. Gibbs to see me without proper clothing. Sweet man.

Hurried clunky footsteps came from the stairs. Jack gently lifted me so I was lying down on the bed properly. Unable to take the suspense, I made my eyes flutter open as I had seen the ladies do back at court when awakening from a faint. I almost immediately met Jack's eyes. He was kneeling down next to the bed, his eyes locked on mine. His eyes brightened when he saw I was awake, and smiled his relief. His smile was reflected in his eyes, how they got softer, and went a slightly lighter brown. I smiled weakly back: I couldn't help it. His smile was contagious. Just then Mr. Gibbs came through the open door.

"Aye Cap'n?" Mr. Gibbs said breathlessly.

"You _could_ knock, mate." Jack tried to look annoyed, but I could tell he was actually relieved to see him.

"Sorry, Cap'n… aye, that's a nasty bump. How'd ye get this, lass?"

"I… don't remember. I think I fell, and hit my head on the floor…" I hated lying. Well, it was only a half-lie. I just didn't want to discuss it right then… Later. With Jack.

(Jack's P.O.V.)

"Er, Cap'n? Migh' I have a bit of a word wif' ye, outside?" Gibbs asked. I shrugged an apology to Ana, and went out the door with the closest thing we had to a doctor on the Pearl. Gibbs closed the door once we were out of me quarters.

"What say ye, Jack?" he said with a devilish grin.

"What say me about what?" I retorted impatiently. Gibbs' grin grew bigger.

"The _lass!_ It's a simple bump, ye coul' clean it yerself… no need for anything more powerful than a bit o' rum. It coul' be… bondin', if ye please." I wouldn't have been surprised if the pirate in front of me had started bloody gigg'ling. I rolled me eyes.

"Yer right, Gibbs. Wha' do I need te do?"

"Well, clean rag an' rum'll do th' trick fer cleanin' it up," he said. While pulling a bottle out of his bag he added, "this'll help wif the pain fer the lass. An' rum, rag, an' bottle'll work fer her other bumps n' bruises she got at Faithful Bride's…"

"All righ', all righ'… I'll do it."

"Good then. Now ye'll tell 'er tha' I hafe te see another patient, an' I'll leave…"

I grimaced. "Nah, Gibbs. Ye'll be tellin' 'er."

His face turned pale as a British merchant ship's sails. "But… Cap'n…"

I couldn' help it. I grinned. "Yer not much of a pirate if ye can't lie, cheat an' steal."

He grumbled, movin' te the staircase. "COTTON!" he roared. Seconds after, Cotton came runnin' down the steps. Gibbs took out a sewing needle, an' pricked Cotton's finger. Cotton stared at 'im, confused. "Back te yer quarters, Cotton," I said curtly.

Gibbs looked smug. "I'm not lyin'. I need ter disinfect tha'." Gibbs opened the door te me quarters. "Here lass. I've got me anoth'r patient I need ter attend te, an' Jack 'ere is gonna look after ye. I don' think it's anythin' too serious, no stitches 'r nothin'." He nodded briskly te Ana, and shut the cabin door.

She tried te set 'erself upright. "'Ere, love, I'll 'elp." I helped set 'er upright in th' bed. She smiled. I grinned. Damn, Jack, yer turnin' inteh a softie! But the way 'er eyes sparkled when she smiled… Bloody hell! What's happinin' te me!

I started fumblin' over me words. Now, I'm one of th' most articulate pirate yer likely te meet, an' 'ere I am with this girl an' me tongue in a knot. "Er, love, lessee… I've got rum-rag-bottle…" God this was embarrasin'. I couldn' take actin' like such an ass.

I said the first useful thing tha' came in me head.

(Ana's P.O.V.)

"How high's yer tolerance fer pain?" Jack asked. Hmmm. Now let's think. I was taken, beaten, and raped by a bunch of pirates. HOW BLOODY HIGH DOES HE THINK MY TOLERANCE FOR PAIN IS? And the worst thing was that he didn't realize he offended me. I just sat there, staring at him.

Over a long pause, his quizzical look turned to one of confusion, then steadily to fear.

"Oh, no, love, I didn' mean…"

You better not have, you filthy, mangy, cur…

"…I meant yer head… th' disinfectan' stings a mighty bit."

"Oh," I replied a little sheepishly. I always jump to stupid conclusions. It had cost me my best friend, Elizabeth, in the past. I vowed not to let my imagination cost me this man's kindness.

"Um, fairly high, I suppose." I gulped. Jack smiled his sympathy.

"Alrigh', this is gonna sting a bit." He poured some rum onto a white rag. I could smell it from across the room. I tried to push back the memories.

(Jack's P.O.V.)

"Alrigh' this is gonna sting a bit." I tried te sound convincing, but methinks that din' do too well. She held 'er breath.

I walked over te the side of 'er with the head wound. I rested me left hand on th' bed, and gently put th' coth with th' rum on her head.

I looked in 'er eyes with an apologetic look as I felt long fingernails dig into me hand on 'er bed. I glanced back at Ana's face.

Her eyes were open an' emotionless.

Her mouth was set in a strai' line.

Bu' she never screamed 'r shed a tear.

I was 'n awe of the lass. Never 'ave I seen a pirate, let alone a lass, show as little pain as Ana. Not te brag, mind ye, but she was prob'ly on par with me!

"Sorry, love," I whispered te her. She forced a brave smile. I don' think I showed it, but it broke me heart te see her like tha'. I winced for 'er.

I finished cleanin' her head, and I put on the cream on 'er wound. Aft'r that, I pulled 'er hair over it gently, so tha' It wasn' quite so obvious. As the cream numbed 'er gash, she smiled her relief, and her whole body relaxed.

Her face tensed again in horror as she noticed that she had made me hand bleed with 'er nails. I grinned. "S'allright, love, I've had worse." I pulled up my sleeve, showin' her me pirate brand.

She touched it gently. Then her eyes met mine.

"At least let me help you with that," she said, noddin' towards me bleedin' hand.

(Ana's P.O.V.)

"At least let me help you with that," I said, trying to compensate for making the poor man bleed. He paused, and then gave me his hand.

It was warm, partially with the warmth from my own hand, and partially from the life coursing through the rugged pirate's veins. His hands were tough as leather, showing years of calluses and exposure to sun and wind. The texture of Jack's hands was rough, but he touched with an almost indescribable gentleness. I looked down at the five puncture wounds caused by my fingernails.

I took the cloth that he had used to clean my head and used a clean corner to wet with the rum. I held his hand gently in mine, though firm enough to not let him draw away in pain. Of course he wouldn't, he was a rugged pirate!

Though somehow I had some doubts…

**A/N: Heh… and so the romance-ish starts! No death threats pleas. Please review all:)**


	5. Pain and Pleasure

**A/N: hehe! Cal, I know ye'll be happy with this one... **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Jack. or Ana. and that makes me sad.**

**InsanityIsNotACrime: hehe... thanks... :) **

**Cal: Thanks again for another wonderful review! and I think I'm giving you what ye want on this one... and please give me ideas! ...stupid writers block. :) Dedicated again to you, Cal!**

Chapter 5

Pain and Pleasure

_(Ana's P.O.V.)_

_I took the cloth that he had used to clean my head and used a clean corner to wet with the rum. I held his hand gently in mine, though firm enough to not let him draw away in pain. Of course he wouldn't, he was a rugged pirate! _

_Though somehow I had some doubts…_

(Jack's P.O.V.)

"BLOODY 'ELL!"

(Ana's P.O.V.)

I winced. All I did was put the disinfecting cloth on his hand…

"BLOODY 'ELL!" he yelled.

"Come now, it's not that bad," I told him. If I didn't know better I'd say that this was the weakest man I'd ever met.

"Yes 'tis…" he grumbled, holding his hand.

I groaned. "As bad as this?" I said, pointing to my head. At this he looked sheepish.

"Well, no," he admitted grudgingly. I smiled and took back his hand. I blew on it, trying to cool off the burning feeling I knew was coursing through his hand. I took another clean part of the rag and dipped it in the ointment.

"Oh, come here, you big baby," I said mockingly.

"Tha's **Captain** Big Baby, lass," he said. I rolled my eyes. Putting the cream on his hand, he seemed to relax with the cooling sensation from the white ointment.

"All right then, _Captain Big Baby,_ what do you propose we do now?" I couldn't help saying craftily. I was starting to feel like my old self again.

Except for the fact that I'm on a pirate ship, locked in the captain's cabin, with a very handsome pirate.

Handsome? Well, yes and no… He was too rough looking to be considered handsome, and to masculine to be considered cute or pretty. He was…

Beautiful.

Or sexy, too I suppose. What am I thinking! I have never thought about anyone like this before, let alone a…

Friend.

Friend. Well, he is a friend I guess. Just a friend.

Never have I been so sad as to realize that someone that is kind to me is my friend. Just my friend. I pushed these thoughts forcefully from my mind, hoping that none of my thoughts were displayed on my face.

"Ye all righ' love?" he said. Damn. I was caught. …_Damn? Since when have I said damn?_

"Er, Captain, there's something I didn't tell you."

"Jack," he said. "Just Jack." **(A/N: Sorry, couldn't help it!) **"What is it, love?"

"I didn't just fall just then. And I do remember what happened. I just didn't want to say it in front of anyone else," I added quickly.

"I know, lass. I heard ye scream. An' I know what scared ye." Jack's face was a painting of honesty, gratitude (for me talking to him) and… regret. This was not something I expected to see or hear. Really, I thought he would be confused, or even angry. Regret was not something one normally sees in a pirate.

"I didn' realize tha' the…_things_ Scarlet an' Giselle wore were tossed in thur. 'S me fault. I'm really sorry," he said earnestly. I felt an overwhelming desire to kiss him again.

I bit my lip to stop myself. Mistaking my reaction for discomfort, he sat on the bed next to me, and put his arm around my shoulders. I rested my head against his chest and let out a long sigh, relishing the moment. He squeezed my shoulders gently.

I couldn't resist any longer. I melted. I snuggled into the crook of his arm, and let all the emotions that had been building up since my ship was attacked go.

I sobbed. Unashamedly bawled my eyes out. Eventually Jack's arm got more and more comfortable…

(Jack's P.O.V.)

Ah, no, now she's cryin'. What the 'ell do ye do when a lass cries? I just held 'er close and let 'er cry. Abou' five minutes later, she hasn' stopped cryin' yet. I couldn't take it anymore, I stroked her hair, being careful te not touch where she hit 'erself. It was oddly comfortin' te me just sittin' there pettin' her like a bloody cat. After a moment, she slowed down.

After she stopp'd cryin', she snuggled deeper inte the crook of me arm, an' her head nestled under me chin. I sighed, and rested me head on 'ers. Eventually her breathing slowed an' evened out.

Perhaps a nap wouldn' be so bad after all… Gibbs can 'andle the crew. Besides, I'm awfully comfy righ' now…

(Ana's P.O.V.)

I was warm. Happy. I squinted against the sunlight coming in. I didn't want to get up. I snuggled down deeper into the pillows. The pillows were so soft, and… breathing? I allowed my eyes to open and found a pair looking down into my own.

Jack…

I had fallen asleep. I had cried like a girl. But Jack had sat with me…

"Mornin' love. That was a bit of a sleep ye had there." His voice was deep, sing-song like, and very contented. I snuggled closer. Jack grinned back at me. I smiled warmly, very pleased with my current position.

"…How long have I been asleep?" I mumbled sleepily. His grin widened.

"Ye've been asleep with abou'…" he trailed off, squinting at the sun through the window. "…two hours I'd say." I'm sure I looked a little surprised. I wondered if he had left some sort of captain-type duties behind in order to be my pillow for the past two hours.

"Jack? Do you have to go be captain now?" I asked, my mind still blurry from sleep.

He stroked my hair. "Nah, love. Gibbs has everythin' under control." He smiled, and I smiled back.

I could stay like that forever…

(Jack's P.O.V.)

God, she's beautiful. An' when she smiles like tha'… I prob'ly should go 'elp Gibbs, but 'e knows wha' I'm doin'. 'E'll take care o' it fer me.

"Love?" I asked 'er.

"Mmm?" she responded, wif 'er eyes half closed.

I stopped. What was I goin' te ask 'er? I had more n' enough questions, bu' none o' em seemed appropriate fer the moment.

"Are ye happy?" If I could've walked up te meself and slapped me in the face, I would've. Why in bloody hell did I ask 'er that? I opened me moth te rephrase, but she cut in.

"Yes," she said, "Never been happier, really." I stared a' 'er wif me mouth open.

"Ye what?" I asked stupidly. She 'ad her eyes closed an' she smiled.

"I know you heard me Jack. I said I'm happy. Probably the happiest I've ever been." She smirked.

I swear she took me grin and put it on. The lass learns quick.

I kissed 'er on the top of 'er head. Ana's smile grew bigger. I hesitated, then I turned me neck aroun' kissed 'er cheek.

(Ana's P.O.V.)

Jack kissed me on my cheek. His lips were warm, and soft. It seemed like there was a surge of warm tingly heat and life rush through my body from my cheek down to my toes and back.

I turned around slightly, so he was sitting on the bed, and I was on his lap. I closed my eyes and met his lips with mine. Heat surged through my body, and I shivered. I put my arms around his neck and leaned deeper into the kiss. I thought of all the ladies at court, knowing that I was kissing a pirate… what they think! I giggled into Jack's mouth at the thought. Come to think of it, I probably did a lot of things in England that would have astonished the ladies… but I don't care, they always were too stuffy.

Jack broke the kiss to ask, "What's so funny, Ana?"

At that I broke out into another fit of giggles.

"Wha'?" he asked, with that sly off-center grin.

"You called me Ana!" I managed to say in a fit of giggles. Jack's grin expanded to cover his entire face. I giggled again, but this time Jack interrupted by placing his mouth over my own.

He smiled against my mouth. This is where I belong.

(Jack's P.O.V.)

She's beautiful when she smiles. Th' skin 'round 'er eyes goes all crinkly, and 'er eyes sparkle. 'Er cheeks get tha' shade o' pink like the sky righ' before sunset.

An' I kissed 'er. Perhaps it was wrong, but it was too perfect fer me te pass up. I pressed me lips against 'ers while she was still gig'ling. I smiled, an' put me arms 'round 'er waist, holdin' 'er closer te me.

We both broke fer air, an' we sat there, all cuddled up together, 'til Ana fell asleep.

**A/N: Short, I know… but I figured that y'all would want quality… and fast updates… so you sacrifice a few pages of length… also, if anyone has any ideas…? As crazy as it sounds, I've got meself a bit of a writer's block. Reviews, suggestions, and ideas are welcome!**

**Ta,**

**Sparrow's Someone**


	6. Sleeping and Sparrows

**A/N: 'Ello, loves. For inspiration, I watched the movie again (thanks Cal!) and I realized that Jack's grammar is actually quite good, and that he doesn't slur his words unless he's drunk… so I'll be toning down the 'pirate speech,' and leaving most of that to the crew an' Gibbs. Sorry fer the inconvenience!**

Chapter 6

Sleep and Sparrows

(Jack's P.O.V.)

Damn. Why'd she have to be so goddamn beautiful? No, rather, why did those bastards have to rape 'er? I sighed, looking down at th' girl asleep on top of me. Not that I minded, y'see, but I minded that I couldn't _do_ anythin' about it. It crossed me mind that I should see te her other cuts an' scrapes, but I didn' want to wake her, and I didn't want te get slapped for doing anything as she slept, either.

A knock sounded from th' other side o' the door.

"S'me, Gibbs, Cap'n," came the voice from the other side of the door.

"Come in," I practically growled. Gibbs poked 'is head in sheepish-like.

"Sorry, Cap'n, but I need ter get tha' cream if yer done wif it," 'e said.

"I only have her head finished," I replied a little more icily than intended. I softened me tone. "Gibbs- help. I can't feel me arm, she's been layin' on it!" I said whispered urgently. Gibbs grinned and shook 'is head. Bloody pirate. Unable to move I continued te berate him in loud whispers.

"Gibbs! _Gibbs!_ Git back 'ere! That's an order, Joshamee! Damnit, Gibbs, don't you dare close that…" I sighed as I heard the quiet click of the tumblers. "…door."

I took a moment to silently curse me first mate for leavin' me in such a predicament, but what could 'e have done?

After several minutes of careful shiftin', I got 'er to stop cuttin' off me circulation. Just when I got comfortable, she woke up. I couldn't help but roll me eyes.

"…Mmmm?" Ana mumbled, still half asleep.

"'Ello, Luv," I said cheerily. "Time ter get up. An' I need ter fix some o' those cuts ye've got."

She nodded, and began to wipe sleep from 'er eyes, yawnin'. She's adorable when she's tired. I grinned.

Then there was a crash.

I stopped grinning.

**A/N: ahhhh! I am humiliated at the horrible updating-ness of my story. And I give you a cliffie for your trouble! The shortness of the chapter is just to tell you that I'm still alive and I thought a mini-chappy might soften more than just an author's note. I haven't forgotten about the story… just banned from the internet after nearly failing History…. Whoops. But I guerentee that Im no longer failing and I can update a little more regularly.**


	7. Insult and Injury

A/N: Runs from angry villagers with torches and pitchforks I really didn't think anybody read this anymore. After this error was brought to my attention, I did my best to remedy it. I sincerely apologize and I'll try to update more, I promise!

Disclaimer: the genius that is Pirates sadly does not belong to me, I only play with the conveniently disassembled pieces.

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Insult and Injury

(Jack's P.O.V.)

Oh bugger. I looked Ana straight in th' eyes.

"Love, listen to me. _Stay 'ere_. If I'm not down in five minutes, lock yerself in the washroom." I felt for me pistol and readied it, then carefully handed it to 'er- but I made sure it was pointin' down. "Only shoot if someone comes after ye. Now, teh shoot, ye jest-"

Ana plucked me pistol out of me hands, spun it expertly around, unloaded, reloaded, and cocked the bloody thing at the door, just before someone knocked. I couldn't 'elp meself- a gawped like a bleeding fish. Wifout takin' 'er eyes off the door, she gave a cocky grin and whispered, "I used to hunt with my father back in England. I can use a bow, too." Shaking me head, I sauntered to the door, (out of Ana's line of fire- I'm not a bloody idiot).

Drawing my sword, I swung the cabin door open. Gibbs grabbed the doorframe, and Ana lowered the gun. My eyes were drawn to an open cut down 'is jaw. I spun around, and faced Ana. "Stay here. Lock the door, and only open it if ye hear my voice on the other side, savvy? And try not to do anything… stupid." If we'd been hit, there was no time to loose. I shut the door to me cabin and flew up th' stairs. I just hoped I'd be able to ask her to open that door again soon.

(Ana's P.O.V.)

Stupid? Try not to do anything s_tupid?_ I readjusted my legs under me and looked down at the pistol Jack gave me. It was a particularly beautiful piece. I began to trace the design lightly with my fingertip as I kept a half an eye on the antique clock on the dresser.

Five minutes.

And locking myself in the bathroom? What kind of a girl does he think I am? I glanced at myself in the mirror opposite Jack's bed, and realized being decent (and not in a dress) could be greatly to my advantage. Alright. I'll give the Captain his five minutes. I checked the gun- only five bullets. I suppose It's a good thing I'm a fairly good shot then. I began to pace.

Three minutes left.

The clatter above deck, the shouts, the clang of metal on metal was nearly too much to bear staying in an enclosed space with only muffled sounds to keep me company. Honestly, me, cowering next to a wash tub like a kicked puppy! After what seemed like an eternity, five minutes were up. Carefully I slipped out the door, into the narrow corridor outside the Captain's cabin. The shouts were remarkably louder now, and I boldly began to walk up the stairs to see what was going on for myself, and I made it to the end of the passageway without incident. Suddenly, I felt a hand on my shoulder.

I spun around, working purely on instinct, and went to raise my pistol. I know I'm fast, but the cuts and sore muscles littering my body slowed my reaction time just enough for whoever was behind me to grab the gun and twist it out of my hands. I yelped as my finger was caught in the machinery. In one fluid movement, I was spun around and pinned against the wall by my attacker, and when I met his eyes it took my breath away.

I couldn't mistake this man for any of Jack's crew. He had shoulder-length greasy blonde hair, and he reeked of rum. He was the first man who came to my room at the Faithful Bride. I tried to scream, yell, struggle- but every chance of verbal communication was cut off by a slimy tongue being violently thrust down my throat. He pressed the barrel of my own gun sharply against my neck, just enough to impair my breathing. "I know _you,_" he spat, leering and violently groping me through my borrowed clothes. "I suppose yer cap'n wanted ter keep ye fer 'is whore wif himoutat sea."

I managed to spit in his face.

"You little _bitch!_" he snarled, and shoved the gun deeper into the soft flesh of my throat. It's curious how your life flashes before your eyes in a predicament like that. All the things you could have done, regrets, missed opportunities… and the one that came to the forefront of my mind was Jack. He warned me to stay in the bloody cabin. And how do I repay his kindness? By getting myself killed, that's how. If it weren't so dangerous, I would have laughed. I closed my eyes, waiting for the inevitable. I knew he was going to shoot me- why wouldn't he? He's a ruthless pirate!

Suddenly, a warm, sticky liquid sprayed over my face, nearly at the same moment I heard a 'bang.' This was it- I was dying. I thought of how I should have apologized to Elizabeth, how I should have spent more time with my father, and listened to what Jack had told me. I opened my eyes carefully, noting I was covered in blood. It was only after a suspended moment that I realized the dirty pirate lay crumpled and bloody at my feet. The blood was not my own… Looking in the direction of the shot, I saw my rescuer, gun still poised in midair, eyes hard. Those usually soft brown eyes were unusually dark, yet softened only slightly when they met mine.

"Get back in the cabin. Do not come out until I say it's safe." I didn't need to be told again. I grabbed the gun, slippery with blood, and ran back to Jack's quarters. I slammed the deadbolt across the door, and made sure the tumblers were securely in place. I then obediently locked myself in the bathroom, and after a moment to calm my nerves I decided to make myself useful. Taking off my shirt, I filled the wash basin with water, and began to scrub the vile red stain out of the pale cotton.

After I had the blouse, britches and gun washed, dried, and put back on, I heard a loud banging on Jack's door. I carefully crept out of the bathroom and gathered my courage. "Who is it?" I called through the thick wood.

"Gibbs, lass, Joshamee Gibbs! Open up quick, lives depend on it!" I franticly undid the barricade with numb fingers. As soon as I opened the door, a frightening sight met me. Gibbs, his clothes cut near to ribbons, showed the battle had not been an easy one. The blood spatter from Jack's rescue littered the wall.

"Did- did we win?" I asked in a voice far too timid to be my own.

"Yes lass, we won. Come now, grab the rum and the bottle." As we walked towards the stairs leading up to the deck, I asked the question that had been plaguing me since I ran back to the lavish cabin.

"Mr. Gibbs? Did everyone… Did everyone survive?" I looked expectantly at the tired pirate. His eyes flicked towards me, without actually turning to face me. He let out a soft sigh.

"Lass, I- no. Cookie,thePearl'scook, has left us." Gibbs was the physical manifestation of discomfort, but I couldn't help what I said next.

"…And Jack?"

Facing directly in front of him, he murmured, "Not yet." I ran. I fumbled up the deck with a rag between my teeth, and was stunned with what I saw. The deck was littered with pools of blood, and a few men looking a little worse for wear were tossing the bodies of what I assumed to be the enemy ship's dead crew members overboard. I searched frantically for the familiar leather hat, but I couldn't find it. I wandered carefully, stepping over the bodies of the wounded, praying I wasn't too late.

Finally, I saw a body slumped unceremoniously against the ship's wheel. Jack's hat was pulled over his eyes, covering most of his face, but he was still breathing. I knelt down carefully next to him, and placed my hand gently on his left shoulder. What could only be described as a moan escaped his lips as his head limply pulled away from me.

I reached to take off his hat, and no sooner had my fingers touched the brim that his right hand encircled my wrist. "Now listen son, I don't care what ye do to me now, but don't touch my hat, savvy?" I snatched his hat with my other hand.

"Don't care what I do to you, eh, Jack?" I asked, settling the leather tri-corn on my head.

"Ana?" Soft brown eyes looked up at me through thick lashes. I cupped his cheek in my hand for a moment, then began to help him out of his coat- an annoyingly difficult task when the recipient of my ministrations isn't cooperating. After I had Jack down to his blouse, I could see it was soaked with blood. Realizing I couldn't get Jack to sit up on his own if my life depended on it, I grabbed the slit down the front and pulled.

"Easy, Love. What are you doing?" Jack mumbled, and as a shiver ran through me I realized that Jack was woozy not from alcohol, but from blood loss. There wasn't much time. Pulling on the small tear I had created, I ripped the front of his shirt in two. I could feel the confused eyes watching me, although he didn't continue to voice his perplexity. Deftly I undid his belt, and began sliding it out from under him.

"Love. Ana. Wha-" at this Jack was interrupted by weak coughing.

"Shh," I purred. "Just stay still." I gently opened his mouth, and stuck the side of his belt between his teeth, and his eyes lightened with recognition. Pouring a little rum on the now clean rag, I pressed it gently to his chest. I knew Jack must have lost a lot of blood when he barely flinched at what looked like a nasty gunshot wound. Clearing away most of the blood, I leant in closer to examine the wound: there were two bullets lodged not too deep in the flesh above his right pectoral muscle. I looked around for something relatively cleanto fish the bullets out with, and finding nothing, I examined my fingernails.

I have unusually hard fingernails, and unusually long (for me at least). I could probably grab at least one of the bullets with my fingers…

Gently putting my thumb and forefinger into the wound, I heard a muffled sound of pain from Jack. Without looking up, I plucked the deeper bullet out fairly quickly, but the soft moaning continued from my patient. Swiftly dislodging the other offending bullet, I poured more rum on the already bloody rag. Jack gave a quiet whimper, muffled by the thick leather in his mouth.

Disinfecting Jack's wound was as painful for me as it was for him. Every whimper and moan he made pulled at my heartstrings, but I kept my mouth in a straight line and my mind on the task at hand. When I had finished I opened the bottle and looked for a clean corner of my rag to use for the cream andrealized there was none to be found, soI poured some onto my hands to warm it up. After half a moment of hesitation, I gently placed my hand on Jack's chest. I took a deep breath, and began rubbing the milky cream into his skin. My fingers tingled- from the ointment or the feel of Jack's skin, I'm not sure. I tried to block out all feelings, all emotions, all thoughts- and it was much more difficult than what I had imagined.

(Jack's P.O.V.)

That feels _good_. If it didn't hurt so bloody much I should get shot more often. Ana bent down close to me ear, an' whispered, "I'll be right back. Don't fall asleep!" She stood up and scurried away across the deck. I let me eyes close. Ana'll be back in a moment. She won't mind if I close me eyes for just a moment…

(Ana's P.O.V.)

Oh, _shit_. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.

I pulled Gibbs along the deck as fast as I could. "Lass, Lass! What's the matter?"

"He's passed out, Gibbs! Jack!" As we reached his unconscious form, I fell to my knees next to him. "Help me carry him to the cabin- I can look after him better there. I-I'll do something. Just… help?" I finished weakly.

"Aye Lass, I'll carry the captain. You open the door, yes?" his gravely voice murmured.

I don't know how I made my way down the stairs, or how Gibbs and I managed to place him gently on the bed. As soon as we had him comfortable, Gibbs mumbled something about tending to the crew, and I was left alone with Jack. I propped as many extra pillows and blankets as I could find behind him, and ripped a sleeve off my blouse. Tearing it into strips, I evaluated exactly how much work I had ahead of me. Somehow Jack had lost his shirt and boots, and… _oh._ He was handsome. I ripped a larger portion of cloth from the bottom of my blouse, and noticing but not really caring that part of my stomach was now revealed.

Now for the tricky part: to make a bandage over the wound on his chest. I'd have to get under his back, and that's rather tricky when he's lying down. I sighed, and did the only thing I could think of.

Climbing carefully onto the bed, I gently straddled his waist and pulled his limp torso so it was resting against my own. I began winding the thin white fabric around his wound. Back and forth, back and forth, occasionally ripping a little more fabric from my remaining sleeve, I became comfortable with my current position of Jack's nursemaid. I set him back down against his pillows again in order to tie off the bandage properly. After admiring my work for a moment, I allowed myself to raise my eyes to his face.

Jack's eyes were open.

A lazy, contented grin spread across his tired face.

"'Ello, Love."

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A/N: Yes, I realize how utterly improbable that Jack would survive a double gunshot wound. HOWEVER- on the deleted scenes on the PotC DVD there's a bit where Jack says "Truth? No truth at all," and shows various wounds, including a rather nasty gunshot wound to his chest. so that's where it came from.

A/N 2: I updated! Yay me! I'm so terribly sorry I didn't do it earlier- I thought nobody was reading this, and then I got three reviews in a row and thought, gee- this doesn't make sense- Oh dear! I was writing a story! And the rest is history. I'm going on vacation on Sunday for three weeks, and if I can't post you can be sure I'll be writing. Writer's block is gone! happydance. Read and review, please!


	8. Distress and Dismay

**Eep! My apppologies, all. I'm sure they're starting to get old, but with college apps and such it's hard to find time to write what I want to write (that and my laptop died). However, here is a sadly short chapter, but just enough to let y'all know I'm alive and well, and am still dedicated to this story. Thanks to all who reviewed! **

**Disclaimer: still, sadly, not mine. **

_----_**Distress and Dismay---**

_Ello, Love._

**Jack's P.O.V.**

I think I might've startled the lass. Judging by the way she dropped me against the headboard, o'course.

I'd woken up 'bout half way through her ministrations, and watched her. T'was easy to see she'd done this before, looking after someone and suchlike. I didn' want to interrupt, so I let her move me where she wanted- the pain was already starting to subside enough for me ter think properly.

**Ana's P.O.V.**

I was painfully aware of what Jack was wearing.

A pair of pants.

Only. Only a pair of pants.

Recovering from the shock of seeing Jack was awake, I began to prattle on like an idiot. "Jack! Oh, Jack, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, here, here, let me, terribly sorry! No, no, don't move, just… wait, I'll get it, Jack, are you alright? How are you feeling? Are you lightheaded? Are you seeing double? Are you thirsty? Hungry? Is it too bright in here? Why the hell did you close your eyes when I asked you explicitly not to? Can you hear me? _Damnit, Jack, ANSWER ME!_" I seethed.

A bewildered pirate looked up at me, opening and closing his mouth, without having the decency to actually say anything. Does he have any _idea_ how worried I'd been? Does he realize he could have _died_? I found it best to inform him of the latter.

"Jack Sparrow," I said, in what I hoped was a startlingly calm voice, "are you aware how close you actually came to being deceased?" I was answered with more idiotic fish-gawping.

_Men._

"Because, you see Jack, when you closed your eyes back on deck, you had lost a large quantity of blood. And it is quite easy to loose consciousness when you've lost a lot of blood. However, if you would have stayed a-bloody-wake for the few seconds it took me to get Gibbs, you wouldn't have PASSED OUT!" I was livid.

"Ana, I-"

"_AND, _Jack, let yourself get fucking shot! Tell me, please, how you managed that. Twice, in fact. You were shot twice in the chest," here he looked down as if noticing for the first time the gaping wounds in his flesh, "Yes, Jack, you were shot. What, you thought I'd be joking? I'm miles away from joking, you slack-jawed idiot. When I-"

"Leagues."

"…Pardon?"

"Leagues, love. The ocean's not measured in miles."

I resisted the urge to throttle him. The bloody idiot. He's half dead, and he's correcting my nautical lingo? The bloody sodding idiot.

"I'm going to pretend you didn't say that, Jack."

"Oh," he said. He actually looked puzzled. "Ana, Love, you're not makin' any sense."

I stopped pacing. "I'm _what_?" I couldn't believe my ears.

"Love, you're not-" I cut him off with a cry of disgust and stomped (gracefully) out of the cabin, slamming the door.

I couldn't believe it. He got _shot_, _passed out_, nearly _died_, and he doesn't bloody understand _me_? The nerve of that man. I stamped up the stairs to find Mr. Gibbs, and tell him what an ass his captain is. I opened my mouth as I reached the top of the stairs, and when I saw what lay across the deck I promptly closed it again. Although the pile of dead crewmen had definitely dwindled, it was still quite obviously there. The corpse of what could only be Cookie lay slightly apart from the rest, with a white sail draped lightly over his body. A deep red stain was beginning to bleed through the creamy fabric presumably where his mouth and gut were.

I looked away.

Two crew members from the Pearl looking a little worse for wear were grabbing each of the corpses in turn, one by the hands, one by the feet, and heaved the body overboard. Sweat shined on their brows, and they continued to shuffle stiffly from the pile of dead to the rail and back. I looked around for Gibbs- I didn't want to deal with this by myself. I looked down the deck and carefully followed the path made between the wounded crew. I found Gibbs crouched down next to an unconscious man who had just lost his leg.

"Mr. Gibbs?" My voice sounded small next to the groans of the wounded.

The tired man froze for a moment, then lifted his eyes to mine. "How's Jack?" he asked bluntly.

"He's… fine," I murmured. "Lost a lot of blood, but if he stays lying down he should be fine."

"Conscious?"

"Yessir."

"An' what are ye up here fer? Need anythin', lass?" His voice was soft, like asking if _I_ was the one who was all right.

"I… Is there anything I can do to help?" I gestured to the deck littered with writhing bodies. Gibbs looked at me critically, as if sizing me up. I stood a little straighter. "I'd like to help," I said a little more confidently.

Gibbs squinted his eyes for another moment, as the man in front of him gave a soft moan. "Aye," he said finally, sounding defeated and exhausted. "Aye, lass, ye can help. Here's a bottle o' rum. If any of the men are still conscious, try te get 'em to drink- if it fogs their head they won' feel th' pain's much."

I took the bottle, willing my hands not to shake. This was different, surely, than the Faithful Bride. The point of them drinking was to dull the senses, not to sharpen them. Besides- all these men are weak with blood loss. Even if they wanted to they couldn't assault me.

Assault.

Jack.

Jack had saved me. Twice. And I just verbally berated him to a pulp- well, more of a pulp than he was as he lay bloodied on his bed, anyway. _I am a bloody, sodding, good for nothing-_

I looked at the bottle in my hands. This was my chance! I could try to show Jack I was good for something. I could get over this. Show him I was worth saving.

I walked with leaden feet to the nearest of the fallen men. Kneeling next to his head, I placed my hand on his fevered brow. His eyes opened wide, and with pain-hazed eyes he looked through me. Propping him up gently, I tilted the cool glass of the bottle to his lips. After a moment or two of sputtering, he took several desperate gulps before promptly passing out. _That wasn't so bad._

**Jack's P.O.V.**

Perhaps I was dreaming. I mean, me mind _is_ susceptible ter rum (more than the crew thinks. I have me own flask- a gift from Gibbs- bound in leather. Thus opaque. I keep water in it.)

I did upset Ana though. That I remember.

I looked down at my chest. It was wrapped up in strips of white linen. With a mild ache in me chest, I sat up and placed me feet (bare- hmm…) on the cool wood of the floor. Carefully standin' up, I moved slowly to me door. I'm not sure what happened, but I remember Ana pinned with that scurvy bastard stickin' his tongue down 'er throat, then 'er yellin' at me somethin' about someone almost dying.

I stopped moving.

What had I done?

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**so there it is. next chapter will be up as soon as i can, but i'm making no promises that i'll just have to break later. please, read and review!**


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